Crawl Away: Chapter 1

    "You're an idiot..."  

    Chief's usual tone of affection rung in my ear again as I entered the New Otani's West Wing elevator. Somewhere in the distance, in back of my mind, my own voice agreed.   

    Although there was someone in the elevator with me, I reached into my pocket for the message I've read dozens of times already.   

    'New Otani. Room 2902, West Wing. 2000, 6 November.' 

    The message was typed on a plain stock card but it concluded with a signature I had known well.  I had spent 20 days reviewing boxes of business tax files and other immaculately public business records his lawyers kept and he signed. 

    Takeda Kanryu.
  

    I inherited Kanryu's files three months ago, after one of the chief investigator for the Organized Crime Bureau decided on a change of career field. It was not uncommon for this department, I was told by one of the detectives in the section I assumed command over. While Yakuza kept their respectable distance and existed in their world without colliding with ours most of the time, Kanryu was a creature that proved to be a headache for both the cops and the Yakuza alike. His dealings had crossed the invisible delineation between good and bad business and continued to upset the established order of the trade. From the pieces of the reports and memo for records that I was able to make sense of from the previous investigator, I came to understand why an irritation like him had become untouchable. Kanryu had dealt arms briefly with the former Russian states, and may still be sending occasional financial or armament aid to Ukraine. He had also been a generous contributor to a long list of known terrorist groups homed in Belgium. The manner in which he had chosen his charities displayed his obvious lack of comprehension of NATO politics. It did not seem to matter; he only needed to buy their names to lean on. It may have been a rumor that he had circulated himself but there was an assumption of retaliation that may happen from one of the groups if the philanthropist ceased to exist. The Yakuza's very aware of the unlikelihood of those groups would even notice Kanryu's sudden disappearance.  Instead, they settled for a less satisfying but the careful route of letting Kanryu to exist in their territory. Kanryu was at least intelligent enough to live in the small space of existence and not press for anything more.  

    Since working Kanryu's files, I had nothing but theories to work with, none of which I had the manpower nor the resources to prove. A boring stalemate that I couldn't get out of. Kanryu's case would not close as long as he's alive, and there's no paper trail I can track to bury him with. Meanwhile, I was not allowed to review or take any other case when this one remained open. 

     It was more out of curiosity and boredom that I followed up on one of several Kanryu's nightclubs based in Tokyo. One of my informants told me it was Kanryu's personal favorite club since it was the only one that coincided with his pedophilic tendencies. It was a high-end host club in Shibuya that employed barely legal teens. The muscle standing guard by the door asked to see a member's card.  I showed it to him.  

    "We're running a legal operation here," he said after he scrutinized the ID and badge in my wallet.   

    "Then you should have nothing to worry about." 

    He looked a little uncomfortable in the off-the-rack tux that was two sizes too small for his beefy frame. 

    "Just don't hassle the patrons or the employees. They have the right to be here." 

    "Uh-huh."     

    As soon as I walked into the dimly lit main lobby, I was greeted a Caucasian boy and Latin girl in their teens. They couldn't have been more than 16. They bowed and offered the usual honorific greetings in accented Japanese. It was kind of cute. 

    "Shouldn't you be in school in some other country?"  

    They looked at each other then back at me, confused. 

    "Would you like someone...older?" The boy said carefully, straining to form the sentence. 

    "Only if you have someone that would not make me feel conscious about my advanced age."

    They looked at each other and consulted in their native tongue. I made out vague Spanish in their dialogue.

    "We will ask if someone is available to accommodate your needs, honored sir," the boy said and both bowed again before walking off toward the doors behind the bar.   

    The main lobby looked something out of a soft porn movie, except it was dark. Men, invariably middle-aged, in expensive suits cuddled with young men and women that would have looked genial and wholesome if their hands weren't up the dresses or down the pants. Soft, pretentious laughter would come from one of the corners of the room every few seconds on cue.    

    "May I help you, sir?" A soft voice said behind me. 

    I turned. An attractive young man smiled warmly at me.   

    "I could still be your uncle." I complained. 

    "Pardon me?" 

    "Nothing," I said. "Just experiencing Catholic guilt." 

    He nodded and gave me an endearing sad smile.  

    "Takeda Kanryu. Is he here today?" 

    "Kanryu-sama? He only comes here on Mondays. Is he expecting you?" 

    "No," I said and reached into my coat pocket for my wallet. He saw the badge for a second that the wallet was open as I was taking out a card.   

    "Sir, I assure you we are running a legal operation here," he said in a lowered voice.     

    "I'm sure you are. I'm not from Vice. I'm here to see Kanryu."     

    "He's not here today." 

    "And so I would like for you to give him my card," I said as I pressed my card into his hand. "Tell him I would like to speak to him about closing out his files. I'm really tired of looking at them." 

    "I don't understand." 

    "He will." 

    I left.   

    That was two days ago. 

    Early yesterday morning, the unmarked envelope with Kanryu's signed invitation was left in my apartment mailbox. It was a given that I was set up to receive more than a stern speaking to at the Hotel.   I'd already decided to go from the first reading of the invitation, regardless of what the Chief's orders would be.  I showed the Chief the message and asserted my intention to go, the Chief called me an idiot. 

    "You can get him on circumstantial evidence if you found me dead," I offered. 

    He called me an idiot again but he didn't try any harder to dissuade me from going. Obviously he had been briefed thoroughly by my former supervisors about the positive side of my permanent absence. 

    The elevator came to a gentle stop and the man next to me hurried out even before the doors were fully opened. I tucked the note back into my pocket and checked my watch. It was 8 minutes past eight o' clock. The door closed again and this time, it shot straight up to the 20th floor without stopping. I drew the Beretta from the shoulder holster and slipped it into my coat pocket before the elevator door opened. No one came to greet me or chastise me for my tardiness. There was no one in the hall at all.

    Room 2902's door was ajar, with a soft light spilling out. I heard my Chief calling me an idiot again.  I pulled the gun out of my pocket and walked toward the room with my back close to the wall. I nudged the door open with my foot and allowed it to open fully before I peered in. For a few seconds I was not certain what I was staring at. 

    Beautiful was actually a modest word for him. He appeared to be surreal--a being plucked from a perfect portrait of timeless desire. He half-sat, half-knelt leaning against the bed; a tipped wine glass with spilt red wine at his fingertips. The scarlet and gold silk robe he wore hung loosely against his thin frame, exposing his shoulders and half of the exquisite crimson and jade tattoo that seemed to have covered most of his back. 

    "You're late, Saitoh-san," he said. His voice was soft and full of the bedroom kind of lure. 

    "I got lost," I half-lied as I closed the door behind me and locked it. "If I knew you would be meeting me here, I would have been here yesterday." 

    He gave me a disarming smile that worked wonderfully. I pushed the Beretta back into the holster and removed my long coat.

    "You're Kanryu's lover, aren't you?" I asked as I walked past him toward the windows. I drew the curtains close then walked through the connecting rooms as we spoke. 

    "There's no one here," he said as he gathered his folded legs and stood up. "Kanryu's my benefactor. I guess you can call him my surrogate father. He raised me." 

    "How Mother Theresa of him." 

    He laughed and made his way toward the wet bar. He selected a wine glass that hung from a rack above the bar and poured half a glass of the red wine into it. He offered me a drink. I declined. I finally found the stereo system hidden away in the cabinet. I scanned through the radio stations until I found one that played classical music. 

    "The room's not bugged," he said. 

    "Actually, I'm just setting the mood for you to seduce me," I said, adjusting the volume a couple of notches below the level that would require me to yell the conversation. 

    I sat down on the red velvet armchair by the window and carefully studied the person I was prepared to declare my eternal love for. He looked vaguely familiar, as I took in more details of his face and body.      

    "Aoshi..." the name came out of me as soon as my memory recovered his name from the files where I had seen his pictures.

    He nodded.  

    "You didn't sign the message." 

    "No." 

    He took a sip of the wine and walked toward me. A self-defense reflex, I suppose, when I started to think about Police report form numbers. 

    "So you're here to represent Kanryu's interests." 

    He shrugged, and stopped a couple of steps towards me. I wanted to reach into my pocket for my cigarettes but I was too consumed with admiring how well the loose silk robe clung to the contours his body. 

    "And you're here to lure me into some kind of an agreement...not that I'll opposed to whatever you have planned." 

    He smiled that perfect smile again. I would have given him my gun, along with the rest of my clothing if the form titles and numbers weren't cluttering my reasoning then. 

    "I'd like to see Kanryu get what he wants," he said and closed the space between us. "And I'd like to see you getting what you want." 

    He knelt over my lap and leaned in close so I can smell him. I breathed him in--sex and sensuality and tainted lust. Briefly I made up my mind that I could accept throwing everything away, just to taste him. He bent closer, his breath sweet and moist with wine against my mouth. His lips were slightly apart as they brushed over mine, inviting me to just take a small bite. I almost did. 

    "Reports and Analysis Quarterly Worksheet, Form 207-101...." I said quickly.  I held him by the waist and pulled him back from me.   

    "What?" 

    "It's difficult for me to negotiate when blood's rushing out of my brain." 

    "Umm," he nodded and took another sip of the wine and placed the glass down on the carpet next to the chair. "Maybe we can negotiate after you reviewed what's on the bargaining table?" 

    "You're not opposed to giving out..." I caught myself before I said 'freebies' but he knew what I almost said. He laughed and started to loosen the knot on my tie. 

    "I'm a courtesan, Saitoh-san, not a whore," he said. "You knew my name..." 

    "You were often seen in the company of your saint-like surrogate father." 

    He discarded the tie on the floor and started to unfasten the buttons on my shirt. 

    "I see. So you understand what I do for him." 

    "I do and I don't. My attention was badly invested on your father." 

    "He's not my father." There was a subtle change that came over his eyes although his voice remained the same. I pretended not to notice it so I would not have to apologize. 

    "You mean what you do for him as a courtesan or as a personal killer?"  

    "You are familiar with my background?" 

    "Actually, I didn't. That was a guess." 

    He smiled and ran his finger over the holstered gun. 

    "You suspected I am dangerous and yet you're still here..." 

    "The things men would do for sex," I confessed. 

    "Yes," he said simply then leaned over and gave me a disappointingly quick kiss on my mouth. I nearly protested out loud when he got up and off my lap. Instead, he knelt down between my knees and unfastened my belt buckle.   

    "You could be putting a lot of work into a failed deal, Aoshi," I said in an unsteady voice as he slipped one of his hands into my unzipped pants.   

    "I don't mind."   

     "Bless you."

    He dragged his teeth over my still-clothed erection and that did it. He could have asked me for anything then, and he would have it. I couldn't even remember why I was there. All I cared about at that very moment that I was. I had surrendered and he knew I had.   

    I watched him release my cock and held it by the base as his tongue licked the tip and the length of it. The sensation was unquestionably spectacular, but to watch his small mouth and tongue caressing my erection brought me to another sexual height. I stroked his hair, running my fingers through the silk-like threads mindlessly. I grabbed his hair a little too hard when he closed his mouth over the already over-stimulated cock. I was close to coming but I didn't want the sensation to end. He stopped for a moment, sensing my climax. He pressed his thumb harder against the root of the shaft until the luscious contractions subsided.  He licked the moisture that had wept out from the tip then took the length back into his mouth again.  He repeated this a couple of more times before I finally roused enough will power to ask him to stop. I ached to be inside him. 

    He stood and knelt over my lap again. He leaned forward and allowed me to strip away his silk robe. His entire body was smooth with slight curves that reminded me of a fine woman. I pressed two wet fingers into him--opening him, as I lingered in my first tastes of him. I licked and bit lightly a trail from his chest up to his neck, then worked my way toward the mouth that tasted like wine. His body rocked slowly against my fingers and he let out a moan that reminded me of my own urges. 

    I pushed into him slowly. He hissed and bit down on his lower lip as he leaned back on my cock until I was completely inside him. For a couple of minutes neither one of us moved. I wanted to be sealed in that warmth forever. 

    "You feel very nice..." he whispered as he started to lift himself from my cock then slowly impaled himself again. I replied something incoherent that resembled a grunt. Each stroke of his movement came with increased tempo, along with the intensity of his moans.  He stopped abruptly and wound his arms around my neck.    

    "Don't come yet," he said into my ear. "...the bed." 

    I was still inside him when I picked him up and made the impossibly long journey to the bed across the room. I had never attempted to walk in midst of a fornication before and it was not easy as I thought it would be. I had disturbing thoughts of crashing into furniture or at worst, being tripped by them. I placed him down in center of the bed as soon as I reached the destination without incident.   

    "Take off your clothes for me..." 

    I was already stepping out of my pants even before he finished the sentence. I hesitated for a second on relinquishing my shoulder holster. An odd feeling came over me as I shrugged out of it. I dismissed it when I quickly assessed the unlikelihood of him presenting any more danger to me now, since he had ample opportunities to maim me. I discarded my clothes into a small pile on the floor and left the holstered gun on the chair by the bed that was within an arm's reach.  

    He turned over and raised to his elbows and knees. I pushed myself into him again but this time, I held him still by his hips so I could control the rhythm and the depth of the strokes.   

    "Harder..." he said again even as I plunged forcefully into him. His cries heightened into screams, but I couldn't tell if they were from pain or pleasure. I knew I had to be hurting him with the strength I was putting into each thrust but he did not tell me to stop. Then it was as if I had come to a sudden awareness of the crimson and jade design spilled over the fine surface of his back. I studied each crimped petals and each fresh emerald leaves meticulously carved into his skin. I ran my hands over the painting--the skin was hot and slick with sweat. I bent down to kiss the nape of his neck. 

    "How many men...Aoshi?" I began but couldn't finish the sentence. I wanted to ask him how many men had been tricked like I was, trapped inside him like this.    

    He crawled forward to detach himself then turned and kissed me. 

    "Does it matter?" He whispered into my mouth. "Right now, there's only you." 

    "Good God, you are good." 

    He grinned and asked me to lie down. I did and he mounted me again.   

    "You can have this for as long as you want, any time you wish," he said in between breaths.  

    "The price tag is?"      

    "Don't follow Kanryu too closely." 

    "I see," was all I can think of to say.   

    "I kind of like fucking you," he said. "I usually don't get pleasant assignments with a nice open option like this." 

    "Well, I kind of... actually, I really like fucking you but I can't walk away from this."  

    He looked a little mystified. His movements ceased.  He held onto the headboard and stared down at me. 

    "Do you realize what Kanryu's capable of doing to you?" He said. I thought I detected a trace of concern in his voice. 

    "Well, he's been kind enough to send you to me and now he's trying to bribe me with unlimited sex...he can't be that bad I suppose." 

    He looked at me a little longer then leaned over and kissed me. That's when I heard it--the distinct sound of a gun clearing a leather holster. Although my mind thought of reaching for my gun, I didn't.  My hands remained on his hips.  When he broke the kiss, he had drawn a snub-nose revolver out from a holster he had taped behind the headboard.  I was impressed. 

    "Please, I don't want to kill you," he said as he leveled the barrel to my forehead as he cocked the hammer back with his thumb. 

    "I really don't want to die either but I guess I deserved it, my cock was doing most of the thinking since I came into this room." 

    "You have nothing to nail Kanryu with.  Your three months of investigation should have revealed that already." 

    "I really don't care. You have a job to do and I have mine." 

    He stared at me for a few seconds longer then he sighed as he walked the hammer forward. 

    "Hell..." he said as he tossed the gun to the chair on the side where I had draped my shoulder holster. 

    "You just didn't want to waste a good hard-on...." I said, moving a little to remind him that I was still erect and inside him.   

    "Most men lose their hard-on when they have a gun pressed against their head," he said.   

    "I don't think my cock understood the situation, being where it was at." 

    "All this, wasted on a cop..." He sighed.  
     

    I stayed with him through the night. We said very little to each other although there were many questions on my mind that I had meant to ask. It was nearly 4 a.m. when we woke from a small nap and wordlessly headed into the shower. I felt like an asshole when I saw the reddened skin on the insides of his thighs. He shrugged when I uttered an apology. 

    "Why didn't you kill me?" I asked him finally as I ran the bar of soap along the curves of his body. 

    "You have a job to do and I have mine," he replied. 

    "Quoting me doesn't answer my question." 

    "One of us has to fail...” he said. "There's nothing more complicated than that." 

    He rinsed off the last traces of soap off his chest and stepped out of the shower stall. I walked out after him. We dried off and dressed in silence.  

    "Will Kanryu kill you for this failure?" I asked him as he was putting on his long cashmere coat. 

    "I would be punished, but he will not kill me." 

    "I want you to come with me then." 

    "I can't be with you. I lied to you last night," he said and gave me a kiss. "I am a whore." 

    Then he was gone. I stood in middle of the room, his kiss still felt fresh against my lips. I stared at the closed door, and waited for him to come back and tell me he changed his mind. He didn't. I looked over the rumpled sheets and the memories of the night filled me with guilt. My night of pleasure had earned him an unfathomable punishment from a sadist. I should have left as soon as I came and perhaps none of this would happen. I didn't even understand the meaning of why he had chosen to fail a man who had raised him, and favored someone he had only known for a few hours. I cursed and dashed out of the room, hoping he was still in the hallway, waiting for the elevator. He was gone. The elevator had already descended onto the lobby floor. 

    I wished Aoshi had killed me that night.

~Narcissus 07092000

This Aoshi and Saitoh has been the most...drastic, I guess you can say, I've ever done and I rather liked writing in these new voices.  The cocky, sarcastic Saitoh whom I believed can feel all emotions but does not display them.  It was nice to get into his head and let him speak as a cop and also as a human being that's capable of more than predatory emotions.  The Saitoh that can feel regret and guilt, although he will never act on them.  I've been wanting to write a "strong uke" kind of Aoshi since I've read Senri Akidsuki's Aoshi some time ago.  The Aoshi that can take sex or punishment without care.  Or at least, the Aoshi that can enjoy sex without being forced out of him.